


What It Takes

by nan



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Claiming, Double Penetration, Dubious Consent, Emotional Constipation, Emotional Manipulation, Finally Derek gets what he wants, Happy Ending, I mean it, Just because Peter is not the alpha, Knotting, M/M, Other, Overstimulation, Pack Dynamics, Peter Hale fixes all the problems, Peter Hale has feelings too, Peter Hale is a Creepin Creeper, Possessive Behavior, Rimming, Scent Marking, basically a fuck or die situation, doesn't mean he's not in charge, it's a pretty non-con situation, not as dark as it seems, or a fuck or be taken away situation, seriously
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-08-17
Updated: 2012-08-17
Packaged: 2017-11-12 08:53:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/489047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nan/pseuds/nan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is pretty irresistible to werewolves. The alpha pack is coming and Peter's going to make sure he stays a member of the Beacon Hills pack. Derek's willing to help. Peter's going to make sure of <em>that</em> too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What It Takes

Tapping a pen against his chin, Stiles glared down at his notes before peering at the computer screen longingly. Seriously. Why was homework so boring and the internet so awesome? It just wasn't fair. How was he suppose to get anything done when facebook and stupid youtube videos were _right there_? 

A creak behind Stiles startled him for a bit before he slammed his book shut. "Dude, Derek, seriously, I don't really care about whatever it is you're here for so just..." His voice faltered and died when he turned around and faced his visitor. 

"Hello, Stiles," Peter said, a friendly little smile on his face. His lying face, because if Stiles were going to describe Peter, _friendly_ would not be at the top of the list.

Stiles froze. "My dad's downstairs," he said. "My dad, the sheriff with the big shotgun. Right downstairs." 

Chuckling, Peter came closer. "I think you mean ex-sheriff. Do you really think he could make it up those stairs before I ripped your throat out?" 

Yeah, that was a pretty familiar threat, nice to know it ran in the family. In his haste to get up, Stiles fell backwards, chair crashing to the floor. Scrambling to his feet, he grabbed the doorknob. 

"Stiles, calm down —"

"Calm down, _calm down_ , are you kidding me —"

"I just said I could, not that I wanted to," Peter said and he even had one hand outstretched, like he'd been planning to _help Stiles up_ and how messed up was that? It was _his_ fault Stiles was on the floor anyway, no way was Stiles accepting any help.

"Stiles?" His dad's voice was right outside the door and suddenly Peter was _there_ , one hand on the door, the other braced on Stiles' shoulder. 

"I'm just here to talk but if your father comes in, this will probably get ugly," he said, the words little more that breath against Stiles' cheek. 

Stiles jerked away and glared at him. "I-I'm okay, Dad," he said. "I just...you know me, I got a little excited about something online I couldn't contain myself, okay, no big deal."

A pause. "Okay, son," his dad said, laughter coloring his voice. "Just don't forget to clean up." 

"No, okay, yeah, sure thing." Stiles listened to his dad's footsteps descend down the stairs before turning to Peter, who'd retreated to the middle of his bedroom. "Dude, great, thanks a lot. Now my dad thinks I was masturbating." 

Peter quirked a brow. "Don't try to tell me you don't. I can smell that you do." As if to emphasize his point, he took a deep breath. 

"Yeah but I wasn't — you know, I'm not even going to talk about this with you, you giant, creepy, undead, werewolf. What the hell do you want?" 

"Why the hostility? We're on the same side now, aren't we?" 

"Uh, no." Stiles shook his hands emphatically. "A world of no, man. I'm only on Derek's side, like, 50% of the time and even if we were best bros, _you're_ only helping him because you're too weak to challenge his alphahood or whatever right now, so let's not play games here. We're not on the same side."

Peter chuckled. "You know what I've always liked about you, Stiles?"

"Uh. My outstanding wit? My charming good looks? My excellent aim?" Whoops, maybe bringing up the whole molotov cocktail thing wasn't the best idea but Peter was still smiling, still watching him with those quicksilver eyes. "Seriously, just spit it out." 

"Don't get me wrong, those are all great attributes that you possess but no. What I'm talking about is your honesty." 

"My...honesty?" Stiles barked out a laugh. "Welp, looks like you don't know me quite as well as you thought, because I lie _all the time_. All the time. It's almost a hobby at this point. I lie to, like. Everyone." 

Peter waved one hand on the air. "Oh no, I'm aware your mouth lies. It's your body I'm more interested in." Stiles face must have shown how _severely disturbing_ he found that sentence to be because Peter laughed softly. "When you lie, your pulse raises. Your pupils dilate as if you're afraid. Your scent changes." He took another deep breath. 

"Okay, look, stop doing that," Stiles said. "You're acting creepier than usual and I didn't even think that was possible but here you are, creeping it up! Good job." He crossed his arms over his chest. "So come on, just tell me whatever it is you want to tell me and then go away." 

"How easy was it for Gerard to beat you?" 

Stiles froze. "Well, you know, he's a Argent. It's like. In their blood to be badass," he hedged. 

Shaking his head, Peter clasped his hands loosely together. "I saw your face. How easy was it for that old man to break you down? He didn't even have help, did he? It was just you and him and he —"

"He totally kicked my ass, yeah, I know, _I was there_ ," Stiles said, throwing his hands in the air. "I get it, haha, Stiles got his ass handed to him by a geriatric. I still ended up being helpful —" 

"Yes, you brought Lydia," Peter said, smile sharpening. "Very helpful, Stiles. You're a glorified delivery boy." 

"...yeah, okay, whatever." Stiles pointed at his window. "I'd like you to go to hell, Peter, but I guess going out the window would be cool too. Go on, get lost." 

Peter didn't move except to cock his head. "Don't be embarrassed or ashamed. It's all we could expect from you. After all, you're human." And then he took a step forward. "But we can fix that." 

Stiles blinked before running a hand over his head. "Seriously, dude," he said. "You're offering me the bite _again_? My humanity isn't something that needs to be _fixed_ , okay. I'm pretty pleased with it, actually." 

"Remember what I said about lying, Stiles," Peter said, tilting his head forward and looking at Stiles through his lashes. "Your heart is beating so fast now. And your scent." He closed his eyes. "The desire in it is positively intoxicating." Straightening, he spread his hands. "There's a war approaching and you'll undoubtedly be in the middle of it. Your intelligence is useful, Stiles, don't get me wrong. But we're going to need pack members for this —"

"Uh, yeah, see, you and Derek may not let us puny humans in your pack but I'm in _Scott's_ pack so —"

Suddenly Peter was on top of him, one hand wrapped around his throat, the other forcing his head to tilt back. "I can change that," he murmured.

Stiles struggled for a moment before going limp against him. "No, no, wait, no, you're just going to cause a whole lot of conflict, okay, Peter, because Scott will be _so pissed off_ that you bit me and then Derek will be pissed off too because he might not care about me but he sure does want to be bros with Scott so, so yeah, just, think this over before you piss everyone off okay," Stiles said, squeezing his eyes shut. "Seriously, just. Don't—wait." He opened his eyes. "Wait. You're not. You're not an alpha anymore. Right? You can't bite me! Well, I mean, you can but it won't _do_ anything. Besides hurt. And probably bleed." 

Peter huffed against his cheek. "I don't understand you. We both know you want the bite, you're practically vibrating in my arms for want of it —"

"Ah, no, that's just me being seriously disturbed by this non-consensual hug you have going on —"

"— and yet when the offer is made, you say no." Peter stroked his thumb over Stiles' jugular. "You would be such a beautiful werewolf," he murmured. 

"Uhm..." Stiles swallowed and felt Peter's thumb press harder on his throat before continuing the soft petting. "Hey, sure, the whole being strong and fast and having superhuman - or okay, I guess just regular werewolf - senses is tempting but I don't want to be a werewolf and you can't actually turn me into one so. Hey. Let's just. Let's just forget this whole conversation didn't happen, okay? I'm. I'm really okay with that if you are. We can just pretend none of this happened and when we have to go to war or whatever, our packs will get together and —"

"Haven't you been listening? You're not really part of a pack, which means you're up for grabs." 

"What?!" Stiles pulled away from him. "Dude! I am _so_ not 'up for grabs', okay, jeeez. That was. That just. You are such a huge jerk." 

"So," Peter said, ignoring what Stiles said because he was the epitome of a _huge fucking jerk._ "The way I see it, you have two choices. You could go to Scott and ask for the bite, which I'm not sure would work since technically he's not an alpha. Or, you could go to Derek."

"Yeah, well, both of those choices suck so I'm just not going to do either of them. I'll just cling to Scott like a limp noodle, how about that?" Because obviously that was all Peter thought he was good for and _god_ he was such an asshole. Out of all the people in the world to get a second chance at life, it had to be _this guy_. It just wasn't fair.

"The alpha pack won't acknowledge you as a member of Scott's pack —"

"And why do you even care —"

"You may not realize how desirable you are, _Stiles_ , but I certainly do and I won't have this alpha pack giving you the bite," Peter said, jerking Stiles up by the collar of his shirt. "If Derek gives you the bite, you'll belong to _this_ pack and no one will be able to take that away, not even through death." 

"Well, sorry, pal, but I'm not interested in being a werewolf and Derek won't give me the bite without my consent." 

Peter leaned closer. "You really think so?" he whispered. "You don't even know Derek that well, how can you be sure of what he'll do when faced with this decision?" 

Stiles took a stuttering breath. "Because Derek's not you." 

Peter chuckled and released Stiles. "He's more like me than you realize. We both will do whatever it takes to take care of what's important to us." 

Straightening his shirt out, Stiles clenched his jaw. "But I'm not important to him." 

"Oh, Stiles." Peter smiled at him. "You wouldn't have thought yourself important to me either and yet, here we are." 

Stiles gaped at him and Peter laughed outright, before sitting on the windowsill. "You will be a member of our pack, Stiles. Whether you consent to it or not." He disappeared from the window and Stiles stared for a moment before moving forward and slamming it shut, turning the lock with a finality that would have been reassuring if he hadn't known how weak the whole window actually was. 

Holy crap. Holy crap, holy crap, what was he going to do?! Obviously, there was nothing to worry about because Derek definitely _would not_ try and force the bite on him. Nope. Derek was a scary asshole sometimes — okay, a lot of the time — but he'd made it clear that he wouldn't give the bite to anyone unwilling. Stiles nodded and sat on his bed. Right. Derek wasn't the sociopath that his uncle was. He didn't have anything to worry about. 

It still took a long time for Stiles to get to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> This is being written for the double penetration square of my kink_bingo card. Guys, I don't. I never thought I would write Peter because while I love him, he's really one of those manipulative, intelligent characters that are _so difficult_ for me to get a hang of so if this sucks. I'm so sorry. ;;


End file.
